It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. but i guess i'm what
i feel and see and hear, harlem, i hear you:
hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on
this page.
(i hear new york, too.) me—who?

hughes's poem "theme for english b" includes a four-line stanza at the beginning. this is called a(n)

couplet
quatrain
refrain
a train

d.) then bernice winced as marjorie tossed her own hair over her shoulders and began to twist it slowly into two long blond braids until in her cream-colored negligée she looked like a delicate painting of some saxon princess. fascinated, bernice watched the braids grow. heavy and luxurious they were, moving under the supple fingers like restive snakes—and to bernice remained this relic and the curling iron and a to-morrow full of eyes.

pretty sure it is d hope this